


we were never meant to be (apart)

by ztao



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:37:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ztao/pseuds/ztao
Summary: It started when Goodnight was 16 and Billy, 15. Although the son of a bitch lied and said he was 17 at the time.Or alternatively: A story chronicling the lives of Goodnight and Billy from when they first meet until they win back Rose Creek, 1879.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first fic for goodnight/billy...it'll most likely be a four part story and obv they don't die. nope.  
> also there's a lot of messing with canon timelines and this is 90% not historically accurate so just a heads up and most of the places names are fictitious.  
> (also i need to update the summary...i didn't know what to write welp)

 

 

So this is how the official tale went. Goodnight met Billy at a saloon in State Springs, 1869. The folks there didn't want anything to do with him. Goodnight didn't either, but for wholly different reasons. He liked to think he was open minded but he also liked to mind his own damn business and all he wanted was a quick drink before he went off. Billy didn't like getting spat on, jeered at. So? He stabbed every single one of those men. And Goodnight thought, _I could really have someone like this with me._ Ten years later they're inseparable, business partners, friends, however the good folks' minds wander to.

 

That's the official story. Sometimes it changes. Sometimes Goodnight lets slip some things that don't add up, embellishes some more made up crap. Billy doesn't care. He just rolls his eyes every single time a stranger asks how someone like Goodnight met someone like Billy and smiles to himself fondly when Goodnight gets way too into the story.

 

But here's the real story.

 

It started when Goodnight was 16 and Billy, 15. Although the son of a bitch lied and said he was 17 at the time. They met the first day Goodnight was back home in Hale Springs for the summer from boarding school. He was in a rich mauve, silk puff tie, the latest in fashion trousers and shirt, new leather boots and suspenders to finish. The very picture of wealthy middle class privilege. The girls were giggling among themselves while stealing not so subtle glances towards him and Goodnight felt rather good about himself. Maybe his chest puffed up a bit. Maybe he walked with more of a swagger to his steps as he left the house. No one needed to know. The point of this goddamn story is, he was feeling real good, chuffed even.

 

Boarding school didn't have any girls; no one to impress with a good set of clothing, words to charm or woo so when he was walking on the path by the dried up river he was conjuring up a future for himself with a pretty wife and three children at the very least, where there was green grass and sun. He was so stuck in his own head which was not an uncommon occurrence, _too much imagination for a boy_ his father always grumbled. Goodnight couldn't care less.

 

But he was so stuck in his own thoughts that he wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings and hadn't even realised he'd wandered off into the east side, where the soil was more like sand, the trees like crippled old men, all in all the poor folks side, also known as Ruby Griffin. There was nothing shiny or expensive about it and so it might have just been some rich, pompous old toads who thought it hilarious to add a priceless gem to a name for such a town. The folks there could rob and kill you before you could even utter the first two words of a Hail Mary, so the latter half of the name, frightening mythical creature seemed about apt. At least that was what his father raged on about, disgusting men who killed for no other reason than they could.

 

Goodnight had never ventured to this part of town. Curious of course as a child but his father's tales of ill cultured men, dirty brothels and disease ridden waters had discouraged any such thoughts of visiting. Now, he thinks his father may have exaggerated everything just to stop him from ever thinking about going. The town was a far cry from home for sure, but it wasn't a gentleman's nightmare as his father loved to bluster about.

 

It was lively and bustling, just like any other town but its people dressed in perhaps less clean cotton and silks and more worn down trousers and boots. Goodnight had a small gun on him if need be and no one in the town looked like they wanted to kill or rob him. In fact just when he started walking into the heart of the town he noticed a woman beckoning him from the front door of what must be a brothel for him to come in. Goodnight, still young, blushed profusely and looked at the ground as he walked past in a hurry. But, because of this, he wasn't looking where he was going and he bumped, or more aptly, crashed into someone. Both of them fell backwards and Goodnight groaned, his white shirt now stained with dirt. God, Mrs Rodriguez, the housekeeper was going to be livid.

 

Just as Goodnight was bemoaning his future he saw a calloused hand, no bigger than his own reach out to him, through instinct Goodnight took it and stood up, finally looking at the boy in front of him. Oh, he was an Oriental, dressed in shabby clothes but no different to anyone else's in the town and a soft face, hardened by his frown, his cheeks sallow. His hair was beautiful though, Goodnight felt himself blush as the boy raised his eyebrow at him in bemusement.

 

"I'm uh mighty sorry for not watching my way and bumped into you. Uh..."

 

Goodnight squirmed at the penetrating gaze of the boy in front of him, as if finally taking pity on Goodnight he murmured in a soft voice, "Billy."

 

"Billy?" Goodnight couldn't help but blurt out.

 

That finally got the boy to smile, "I don't think you would be able to say my real name, white boy."

 

Goodnight bit his lips, "I would like to. My name's Goodnight uh, Goodnight Robicheaux. I live uh," he waves his hand towards the west direction, "yonder." Suddenly refraining from saying where he actually lives. He wants to know more about this boy, wants to befriend him if he can. He doesn't know where that thought came from but it settles in his heart and doesn't budge.

 

If Billy looks surprised he doesn't show it. He shrugs indifferently, "my mother wanted me to stop by the general store. You can follow."

 

Goodnight is stunned for a second before enthusiastically smiling, he was a good natured person by default and wanted to be liked by everyone. The boys at boarding school all saw him as a friend and although Goodnight had no one closer than that, to laugh with and share secrets. He didn't mind, not really. Although, at times he wouldn't mind getting woken up late at night by a friend to swim in Springton Lake that was restricted after dark.

 

Billy let go of Goodnight's hand and started walking away and Goodnight quickly followed. The two continued walking in silence and Goodnight felt itchy, wanting to say something, to get this boy's approval for whatever inane reason. Usually folks took a liking to Goodnight straight away and Billy had only smiled once and it seemed to be at Goodnight's expense.

 

"Uh, how old are you?" Goodnight blurted out as he couldn't stand the silence any longer.

 

Billy doesn't miss a beat, nor does he glance at Goodnight which irks the boy, "how old are you?"

 

"I asked ya first," he can't help but mutter but seeing that he would get no reply Goodnight says, "I'm 16. Turning 17 in Spring."

 

Billy nods in understanding, "I'm 17."

 

"17?" Goodnight can't help his surprise. He was sure Billy was younger.

 

"That's what I said."

 

"Oh."

 

Billy hums as if that's that.

 

But Goodnight doesn't want to stop the poor attempt at conversation, Billy's voice was nice and soft, not like the booming voices of his friends or the harsh biting tone of his father. And so Goodnight walks a bit faster to keep in step with the other boy.

 

"So how _do_ ya say your real name?"

 

"I said you wouldn't be able to say it."

 

"My father's french. I pick up languages quick!"

 

Billy looked at Goodnight this time and the latter mentally fist pumped, he didn't know why he wanted Billy to look at him, not then, but it made his stomach warm.

 

"Say something then." His eyes glint with amusement and Goodnight gulped.

 

"Uh...um mon cher...je ne peux pas vivre sans toi." He didn't know what possessed him to say that phrase, he _knew_ french goddammit. Knew how to string a perfect non embarrassing sentence.

 

Billy's eyes widened and then he laughed, let out a true goddamn guffaw, it made his usual stoic face light up and he looked younger, softer. Goodnight blinked in surprise, "do you use this on all the unsuspecting girls Goodnight?"

 

Goodnight felt his cheeks burn, "I ain't thought you would understand."

 

Billy, still smiling, "I know a little."

 

And just like that it seems any tension or wariness Billy had towards Goodnight disappeared. Although, he still didn't talk much, the rest of the short walk to the general store was in amicable conversation, mostly on Goodnight's part and Billy would input something every now and again. And every time Goodnight felt Billy's eyes on him, he would feel that warm feeling in his stomach again although he didn't understand the meaning of it. But Goodnight didn't let his thoughts linger and instead kept talking and trying to make Billy smile.

 

After arriving at the general store Goodnight waited outside and ten minutes later they continue their walk back. Goodnight discovers that Billy has a younger sister called Daisy, that his father is working in the mines over in California and his mother works as a maid for a family in town but is allowed to go home everyday and he enjoys darts. _Darts?_ Goodnight thought that was a peculiar hobby for a boy. _Darts, knives, anything sharp and with a target_. Billy couldn't hide his grin when he saw Goodnight's face paling. But didn't correct himself or say it was a joke. And if Goodnight conjured up images out of fascination of Billy throwing knives at some sand bagged dummies effortlessly, with a smile like you were the butt of some inside joke well that was nobody's business but his own.

 

They finally arrived at Billy's home, a small shabby dwelling, the sky was starting to redden in angry puss like hues and suddenly Goodnight felt awkward and ostentatious even in his now dirty clothes. As if sensing his emotions, Billy gave him a rare smile, "so west," he copied the vague gesture Goodnight had done, "meant Hale Spring?"

 

Goodnight blinked in surprise, then in embarrassment he looked down and avoided Billy's eyes as he tug on his shirt, his hands sweaty, "Uh yeah, you're very perceptive uh. I live there but I ain't meant nothing rude when I didn't tell you. I didn't think you would rob me or nothing like that I promise. I just- I just thought it was ill cultured to tell you and it would seem pompous and I would really like to be your friend. Also, um when I was younger I wanted to be friends with Mrs Clary's son, a housemaid but she must have told him he couldn't be or something of the like because we're so different. I just- I just thought you might especially not want to associate with me if-"

 

Suddenly Goodnight felt a punch firmly connect with his shoulder. It wasn't hard but it made him stop his rambling, stumble slightly and finally look at Billy whose smile was bright with amusement as if he had consumed the whole goddamn sun himself and Goodnight felt that small warmth in his stomach again, "I don't care how rich you are Goodnight."

 

"I didn't think you would _care_ so much as not wanna be my- "

 

"And I wouldn't mind," Billy interrupts, pauses then hastily says, "being friends with you."

 

"Serious?" Goodnight feels himself get ecstatic with hopefulness.

 

"I don't see why not. If you wanna associate with me you should know I ain't white though."

 

Goodnight's face morphed in confusion, "I know ya ain't Billy. I have two working eyes."

 

Billy chuckled but just shrugged and doesn't say anything.

 

"I'm off school for the next few weeks uh. Since we're friends can I come see ya sometimes?"

 

Billy rolled his eyes this time and punched Goodnight lightly on the shoulder again, "that's what friends mean."

 

Goodnight grinned, he knows he probably looks ridiculous right now but he can't help it. He's never really cared for someone's acceptance this much before, nor had he felt a warmth whenever he talked to someone like he did with Billy and he only knew him for less than a day! But he ignored those lingering thoughts at the back of his mind.

 

"You should go then it's sunset and didn't you say your father hates it when you're out late?"

 

Goodnight nodded, surprised that Billy remembered that from all his rambling, "yeah, uh I'll see you tomorrow?" The last word hung with uncertainty.

 

"I'll be helping my mother out looking after Daisy. It's very boring."

 

"I don't mind! If I'm not imposing that is." Goodnight tacks on, remembering his manners.

 

Billy looked at Goodnight as if in fond exasperation, "I really don't mind if you come Goodnight."

 

And just like that Goodnight was on his way home, with a skip to his step, a warm breeze in the air and the sun setting like a backdrop to a happily ever after.

 

Except Goodnight's perhaps optimistic to a fault. At least then, 16 he'd finally made a friend he thought he could confide in, share all his secrets - he didn't have any right now but he was sure he would in the future. Oh how the fates granted him that one wish with twisted delight, a secret where he was a coward, a godforsaken joke. But right now, right now, at 16 Goodnight Robicheaux thought the future could only get better and brighter. A child's dream.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *mon cher...je ne peux pas vivre sans toi - my dear...i can't live without you.
> 
> comments, kudos etc are loved <3


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